


A Simple Chromosome.

by Amara_Gray



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: F/M, Lutecest, Robert/Rosalind - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-12 20:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2124393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amara_Gray/pseuds/Amara_Gray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Pre-Infinite. Lutecest) Robert and Rosalind Lutece are full of many secrets. Zachary Comstock never did like that. When he sends Fink to kill the pair, things are never the same. Being able to jump from reality to reality is a useful trait if anything. But there are dangers in every field of work. Especially Motherhood, as Rosalind soon finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One.

October 31st. 1909.

“Robert Lutece if you even think about moving your head you’ll be bleeding from another crevice.” Rosalind’s sharp tone caused Robert, as always; to sigh and sink back in to his chair once more, staring at the same patch of ceiling as he pinched the bridge of his nose, a tissue gathering the blood that was gushing out in a steady flow. “As always your love and concern makes me feel like I’m hardly ill at all.” He muttered somewhat nasally in return. Rosalind raised her head from where she was in the kitchen, peering through at the dissembled living room, past their machine and to her counterpart, who was slumped in a chair. She set the knife down and folded her arms. “You’re not funny.”  
“Oh?”  
“You’re not.”  
“Shall I be?”  
“I don’t think you’re using the right terms.”  
“Will I be?”  
“Still wrong.”  
“Damn.”  
Rosalind just muttered something about terminology under her breath, glancing back down at the carrot once more as she continued to thinly chop it up. “I’m not being force fed soup again am I?” Came the disgruntled voice from the other room.   
“Indeed you are, Robert.” Rosalind admitted distractedly as she worked. “Until you stop getting nosebleeds and headaches you shall and will be treated like a child. Am I clear?”   
Robert, mopping up the last of his nosebleed with a small sigh, nodded his head. “As crystal.” A soft smile slowly spread across Rosalind’s lips as she walked out of the kitchen and set a glass of water down on the small wooden table at the side of the armchair. Robert felt himself smile back,-though it was a simple twitch at the corner of his lips. Their smiles were only for each other. No-one else deserved to see them.  
However, their smiles were gone as quickly as they had arrived, as Robert changed subjects swiftly as he sipped his water. “We should head out soon,” He began, before he slowly deflated at the smaller woman’s look. How does she always know what I’m implying before I’ve even voiced it? Rosalind settled herself on her chair with a swift shake of her head. “Robert it would be the second time in two days. You really think Comstock appreciates the fact that we keep turning up?”  
“I worry about the little doll, that’s all.”  
“She’s hardly an inanimate object, Robert.”   
“She’s not a lamb either, metaphors are metaphors.” Robert shot right back before he sighed, putting on his tie again. “It’s only been a few weeks since we retrieved the child, Rosalind. She’s a baby. She needs someone that isn’t a scientist. Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy it when we visit her.”  
“We are Scientists. I also don’t enjoy the fact that his wife wanders in here and spouts abuse at me.” Rosalind replied sharply, her tone nettled. Robert slowly closed his eyes. Lady Comstock hadn’t been too happy with them recently. Robert still hadn’t forgiven himself for not being there when she had stormed in on Rosalind. Claiming that the child was a product of Comstock and Rosalind herself.—this thought had made him feel slightly ill when she had told him. If there was one thing he knew his counterpart didn’t like, it was being wrongly put down. But the child was on its own, vulnerable and most likely terrified. He couldn’t let that happen to a mere infant. He had been about to reply, when there was a knock on the living room door.   
“Come in.” Rosalind spoke in to her tea, resting the cup back down in its saucer.   
Robert gave a polite nod to the young woman who was standing in the doorway, dressed in what could only be described as a business outfit. A long navy skirt that reached her ankles, with a matching waistcoat and tie over a white shirt. Her golden locks were tied up with a loose ribbon. Maria, their front of house.   
“Miss Lutece,”  
“Yes, my girl?” Rosalind almost smiled. She had always been fond of the girl. Comstock had employed her simply to be a receptionist and nothing more. But Rosalind was slowly teaching her her ways. Maria was not one to be oppressed by the opposite gender, and Rosalind was quite glad of that fact. Smoothing her hands down her front, the girl spoke once more. “The children are starting to come out in to the streets, Miss Lutece. Will you be participating in Halloween?”  
Robert frowned. “Participating? I hardly think we shall be dressing up—“  
“She means the candy, Robert.” Rosalind corrected, before she looked back at the small framed girl. “Yes. I think we shall.” She gestured faintly to the kitchen as she turned the page in her notebook. “There’s a tin of bon-bons in the cupboard. You don’t mind giving them out to the little ones if they knock?”  
“Of course not, Ma’am.” Maria bowed her head once in respect before she walked to the kitchen, casting a small glance at the great machine whirring behind the two armchairs her Mistress and her brother were sitting on. She stared at the blue light for a moment, before she carried on her way.   
“—Oh, Maria?”  
She stopped, turning to look at Rosalind obediently. Rosalind’s lips twitched for a fraction of a second, looking at the seventeen year old through her spectacles on the end of her nose. “Do take one for yourself too.”  
The girl beamed back at her, and nodded quickly. “Yes Miss Lutece. Thank you Miss Lutece.” She was on her way out again with the tin, before she froze in the doorway, remembering her superiors. She turned to face the two and did an awkward bow of her head in apology. “M-Mr Lutece, too.”  
Robert just chuckled, nodding in acceptance. When she had left he turned to look at his ‘sister’ with a knowing gaze. “You’re quite fond of that girl, aren’t you?”  
“I don’t know what you mean.” 

An hour or so later, Maria knocked on their living room door again. The Lutece’s had been quietly enjoying each other’s company, silently reading as the fire blazed in front of them. Occasionally Robert would hold his hand down over the edge of the chair, his fingers linking with Rosalind’s lazily as they read. Though their hands were quickly rested in their laps at the sound of the knock.   
“Yes Maria what is it?”  
“Mr Jeremiah Fink to see you Ma’am.”  
Rosalind was on her feet instantly, her face dropping slightly before she schooled her expression once more. “Very good, Maria. Send him in.” She nodded, clearing her throat a few times before she repined a loose lock of her red hair in to its usual style. Robert however, had a grim look on his face as he shrugged on his coat. “What does Fink want at this hour?” He muttered in distaste as he stood shoulder to shoulder with the smaller woman, his hands clasped behind him and hers in front. When Fink entered the Laboratory, he was crude enough to shoot Maria a wink in thanks, who retaliated by glaring holes in to the back of his skull as she stood in the doorway behind him. Rosalind was quite struggling to hold her tongue at that, but she forced a polite nod. “Mr Fink. Such a pleasure to have you visit.” Rosalind lied through her teeth, ignoring the light scoff Robert emitted. Jeremiah Fink took off his hat slowly, resting it on the wooden table. “Rosalind. How lovely to see you again.” He smirked, looking up at her slowly. He looked over his shoulder at Maria and snapped his fingers. “Get me a drink, beautiful.”  
“Beautiful? Why you chauvinistic—“  
“I’ll do it, Maria.” Rosalind seemed to have a silent conversation with her front of house with her eyes before she walked in to the kitchen and made a simple whiskey. No Rosalind. No arsenic. When she returned, Fink was commenting to Robert how having ‘fiery workers’ was bad for a business. Once again, Rosalind had to refrain herself from going back in to the kitchen and adding as much arsenic as she possibly could in to the liquid. She handed the businessman his drink, not expecting a thank you. Which of course, was never said.   
“I remind you that my sister and I do not run a business as you do, Fink. We are but a simple research lab—“  
“A corporation is a corporation, Robert. Remember that. I don’t know why you don’t put her on a course with me for a while. I’ll soon get her in to shape for this line of work.” Rosalind was quick to change the subject when she saw Maria’s fists clench at her side. “What brings you here this evening?” 

Fink slowly turned his head to glance over his shoulder, a sinners eyes focusing on Maria. “I’m sorry. You’re still here?” He quipped. It was a reluctant nod from Rosalind that finally made Maria leave the room, closing the door rather loudly behind her. Fink relaxed slightly then, though his eyes never left Rosalind’s. Something that put Robert on edge. With a grin, Fink spoke. “You’ve been busy lately haven’t you Rosalind?” The man leant back against the arm of her chair. Rosalind turned and walked to the whirring machine she had spent so long working on. “I’m always busy Mr Fink.”  
“You should have a break some time. Get yourself down to the Good Time Club, darlin’. Unwind for a while—“  
“I think that’s quite enough of that.” Robert interrupted swiftly, narrowing his eyes at the well-dressed man that stood in front of him. Fink was silent for a beat before he slowly grinned. “That answers my next question then. I always did wonder which one of you two was the older one. Never seen you in such a brotherly state, Robert old boy.” He looked between the two for a moment, though Rosalind had her back to him, writing things down on a clipboard to distract herself from blowing a switch. Fink leant forward slightly, still perching on the arm of the chair. “Of course…you two don’t really pay attention to that, do you?”   
Rosalind slammed her pencil down on her clipboard and turned to face him angrily. “Mr Fink if you’re just going to sit there and spout nonsense I shall have to ask you to leave—“He had already slammed her in to the desk then. “Comstock has ears everywhere my dear. You and your…’brother’ think you can just deceive him that easily? Huh? Didn’t want him to leave you, did you? Didn’t want him to go back to his own universe, leaving little Rosalind all alone.”  
“Unhand her this instant.” Robert shoved Fink out of the way. Rosalind had never seen him looking so heated and angry. She didn’t dare move a muscle, just stood there with her back pressed against the wall. For a second, Fink looked like he was going to take a swing at the taller redhead, but he stopped. Glowering at the two of them.   
“You really think he’s going to let the two of you try to take the brat back? Back through that tear? He’s not happy with you, Lindie.” There was something about the way that he was grinning at her, under his thick moustache, that made Rosalind press her back in to the wall a little more.   
“Don’t call me that.”  
“Don’t call her that.”  
Both sentences were snapped in unison, causing Fink to laugh to himself as he slid his hand in to his back pocket. “What you’re doing is sick and wrong. I’m not a man of religion, Rosalind. You know I’m not. But this?” Robert was standing in front of her then, his arm out to the side, blocking Fink from her view. Robert felt her hands slowly tighten on the back of his jacket, and he moved his other arm behind him, keeping her as close as he could. “Robert…”  
“I know.” He murmured, squeezing her arm, Fink pulled a handgun from his back pocket, causing Robert to stumble back with Rosalind behind him. “What Comstock is doing is wrong, Jeremiah. You know that. You must know that. She’s a child. An innocent child—“  
“Orders are orders, Pal. Sorry.” He shrugged, like it was an everyday situation. “The Prophet isn’t happy with the two of you. So he’s told me to…take care of you. You see,” He stepped forward and the Lutece’s stepped back. “Rosalind Lutece never really focused on the safety of her machine. Always malfunctioning it was. Terrible…terrible accident.” He explained, cocking the gun back as he took a step closer. Rosalind shouted then, over Robert’s shoulder. “Maria! Maria call the police! Call them now!”  
“She can’t hear you, sweet stuff.” Fink tutted. “She hasn’t been able to hear you for a long time.” Robert just about managed to hold his sister back from running at him. With a thick swallow, Robert glanced over his shoulder. The machine was there, crackling and sparking at their close proximities. 

“I can imagine the newspaper article now. ‘Lutece Lab Crisis. Rosalind Lutece and her ‘dear brother’ were using their machine in aid of The Prophet,” All the time he was speaking he was backing them up slowly. “When something short circuited, killing all the members of the household. Their servant, Robert Lutece and Rosalind Lutece herself. Columbia is devastated at such a tragedy.”   
“Robert.” Rosalind breathed, her hands tightening on the back of his jacket some more. “Robert I—“She broke off in to a small gasp when she felt the warm heat of the tear on her back. Identical blue eyes met, a large hand met a small one. Fink was side stepping over to the controls now, the gun never leaving his hand. Robert stared him down, holding Rosalind as close as he could. Fink continued to muse as he stared at the controls, still dictating the apparent newspaper articles of the next day. “But there was one more casualty, unfortunately, people of Columbia. One that Rosalind Lutece was yet to reveal.”   
Rosalind felt her heart slowly ache in sudden, horrifying realisation. “A secret that only The Prophet himself knew. One that, as it happens, he shared with his partners. Four casualties. The Siblings of Science, their excuse for a servant…and?” He glanced down at Rosalind’s lower half. “Such a shame it’ll never get to see life.” He sighed, shaking his head in a false grief. It was that that sent Robert over the edge. He stormed forward. “You insufferable excuse for a human being! How could you do something like this?—“  
“Robert!” Rosalind was trying desperately to tug him back, one hand on her flat--at the time-- stomach. She felt sick. Physically sick that someone as unfaithful as Fink knew of her darkest secret. “Robert please! Please!”  
“You’ll rot in Hell for this Fink. Don’t think you won’t get your penance! By damn someone will give you what’s coming to you and I’ll be damned if it isn’t m—“Fink had already pulled out the main circuit then, causing the tear to squeeze shut around them. The sound of their screams caused him to take a step back. He watched as they convulsed, every ounce of their precious machine was being pumped through their veins. The lights blew out as their screams escalated, their clothes spattered with blood and burnt skin. Fink said nothing, just wandered back to the arm chair and finished the drink Rosalind had made him minutes before. When two charred bodies hit the floor, he sighed and placed his top hat back on his head, adjusting his top hat on his head.   
“Happy Halloween.” 

“And now, we have the new song from Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. OMD to all you kids. Something soft for that hangover I’m sure lots of you are dealing with... A classic in the making here I’m sure. Seeing us in to 1981, its OMD’s new single, Souvenir.”   
The soft music was the first thing that Rosalind opened her eyes to. But soon enough she was closing them again, a harsh light seemed to be flickering on and off. Causing her eyes to ache no matter how much she screwed them shut. Anyone with half a brain could have figured out that the previous voice was from a radio. Albeit, a little more casual speaking than what she was used to in 1909 but it was a radio all the same. It was his words, however, that caused her to sit bolt upright. “1981.” She whispered to no-one in particular. She instantly looked to the skies, expecting to see fire raining down from the heavens. After a moment, she mentally kicked herself. 1981, Rosalind. Not 1983. Two years yet. Holding a hand to her head, she took in her surroundings as she heaved herself to her feet. An alleyway. Delightful. She turned her head, coughing in to her hand. The light that had been previously aggravating her had been a flashing neon sign on the side of the wall that simply read ‘Jacko’s.’   
As it turned out, ‘Jacko’s’ was a dingy café that seemed to only serve food that was covered in grease. It was mostly deserted apart from a few lonely drunks who were slumped in the battered chairs, staring blankly at the tacky plastic menus. The music she could hear was coming from a small silver radio that was perched on the counter. A large hairy bulk of a man, most likely Jacko. , was slouched over behind the counter. In a net vest that showed every single inch of his thick grey body hair. Rosalind was trying to focus on his face and nothing else, but it wasn’t exactly an improvement. A long bead of snot was sliding from his left nostril, only to be sucked back in to the darkness every time he sniffed. Rosalind shifted a little, before she raised her chin and walked over. “Excuse me? Could you be a good fellow and tell me where I am?” Jacko was silent for a moment before he slowly raised his head. “Chicago. Where’d you think you are, Queen Victoria?” He sneered, the bead of snot finally sliding on to his upper lip, only to be swiped away with his wrist. Rosalind could see it caught up in his arm hair. She refrained from dry heaving. At his words she straightened, a look on her face that she was quite sure Robert would be apologizing for had he been here. She spoke then, her tone clearly a nettled one. “Well if I’m Queen Victoria I expect I should be at the Royal Mausoleum in the English Country of Berkshire. Seeing as I died in 1901 due to Rheumatism in my legs and the cataracts in my eyes—“She broke off her tangent of how he was blatantly abusing History suddenly, her face slowly falling. Dead. I should…I should be dead. Fink killed us. But I’m in Chicago in 1981. How does that---The Tear. We must have gone through the tear….Robert. She instantly looked over her shoulder, backpedalling out of the café instantly. Rosalind’s head whipped from left to right, only now realising that her hair had become unpinned in the commotion. Her waist length red hair was whipping about her face in the harsh wind. “Robert!” She shouted in to the wind as she ran out in to the deserted suburban street,   
“Robert!” 

 

A/N  
So I know this chapter has been quite a slow one. I just needed to write their deaths, (It’s all on Rosalind Lutece’s wiki page if any of you are confuzzled.) I promise that the next chapter will have some more body in it. Reviews are one of the main things that keeps me going, like any other writer. So please leave me one to let me know how I’m doing! I should have the next chapter posted up really soon.   
Thank you!


	2. Chapter Two.

Two  
One of the first things that Robert noticed was the everlasting ticking of a grandfather clock. If he really concentrated he could almost visualise the pendulum swinging from side to side in its oaken prison, ticking away the minutes of his unconsciousness.  
“I think it’s about time you woke up, Mr Lutece.” The voice seemed to echo around his head. A strong male voice. The tone was deep, if not, deeper than his own. He subconsciously felt a soft hand brush against his shoulder, before the grip tightened in to a full blown shake. “Mr Lutece. Your full attention would be greatly appreciated.”  
Robert opened his eyes the way one might when awaking from a long needed sleep, but with the grottiness of exhaustion still clinging to them. But nevertheless, his eyes were indeed open. The first thing that Robert noticed about the two skinny figures before him was the oddness of their clothes. Namely, the fact that the young lady seemed to be clad in trousers—tight trousers at that. That wasn’t exactly something Robert was used to seeing, so he found himself averting his eyes almost instantly. Apart from their odd clothes, they looked perfectly normal. The male of the two was a head taller than his female companion, his face set in a grim line of dulled anticipation. His hair was a dull yet ash like auburn, which had had neatly combed back. The same couldn’t be said for the girl who, (causing even more confusion on Robert’s part) had bright purple hair that hung on her shoulders like a skinned coat. “Where am I?” Robert finally asked as he pushed himself up on the bed he had been settled upon. The girl’s eyebrows disappeared under her thick fringe. “I knew he was going to say that.” She grinned smugly, turning her head towards her companion.  
“Do shut up, Eve.” The boy muttered in a tone that seemed to convey to Robert that Eve was normally in moods such as this one. Even with these words snapped at her, Eve still had a knowing smirk on her face. The boy looked back at him then, squeezing his eyes slightly in thought. “How are you feeling Mr Lutece?”  
“Where’s Rosalind?”  
“That wasn’t exactly the answer I was looking for, Sir.” He admitted with a quick tilt of his head as he linked his fingers together in his lap. After subconsciously reaching a hand up to his nose to check for blood, Robert looked back at the two youths before him. “Who are you?”  
“Who we are does not concern you.” Eve spoke again, the smile was gone from her face. Robert was having trouble remembering if it was even there at all. “We simply want to know how you feel. Nothing more. Do try not to complicate things.”  
Robert blinked a few times before he moved his hand to rest on his forehead, not moving from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. It was like someone had taken his brain, mashed it in to a blender and tubed it back in to his head once more. Parts and snippets of memories were coming in to focus and fading just as quickly. ~Something happened. Something happened. What was it? Columbia. The labs. The Lamb. Comstock—~ “Fink.” His head snapped up and a moment later his body followed. He stood at the side of the bed with his pale hands clenched in to fists at his side. Eve and the young man seemed to watch it all with un-phased expressions on their faces. “Fink. Where is he? I’m going to—“  
“Easy there, Mr Lutece.” Eve had stood too now, and Robert noticed that she was in a loose fitting navy blue woollen jumper that hung below her knees. The sleeves hung over her hands a little too much. Something she had overcome by pushing her thumbs through the gaps of the knit work. Perhaps she can’t afford suitable attire. She placed her hand on his shoulder, guiding him back down on to the bed with a gentle smile on her face. “There’s no need to jump to conclusions.”  
“He…He threatened Rosalind. He threatened her.” Robert spat the words like they were sour fruit. Eve had taken to holding his hand in her lap between both of hers, patting the top of his hand lightly as she nodded in understanding. “I know Sir. We both know.” She glanced at her companion and the two seemed to have a silent conversation with a combination of looks and head gestures. When she finally looked back at Robert, she held a hand up to tuck some locks of her oddly coloured hair behind her ear. “Mr Lutece. My name is Eve and this is my brother. Edward. We’re the ones that found you Mr Lutece. We’re here to help you.”  
“Am I…I died.” Robert’s brow was knitted together as he looked up at the girl before him with a utterly lost look on his face. “Rosalind died…I could hear her screaming. She was screaming…”  
For the first time in a long time, Edward spoke. “Mr Lutece,” He brushed himself down after he had stood from the battered armchair he had been occupying. “We can’t explain everything to you. But if you’d kindly come with me we can show you someone who can. Eve---what are you doing?”  
“Trying to look for the cat.” Eve replied simply from where she was on her hands and knees, peering under the bedside table. Edward had an exasperated look on his face. “…Eve. He’s not down there.”  
“I thought I saw him though.” Came the muffled reply.  
“Do you remember that conversation we had about priorities, Evie?” The scowl Edward got in reply was enough to make a small twitch of a smile cross Robert’s lips for a second. “Don’t call me Evie.”  
“Don’t dawdle then. Come on.”

Robert didn’t argue. Without another word said, Edward turned on his heel and lead the three of them down a cobbled and narrow hallway, the heels of Eve’s boots clacked out their journey, bouncing off the walls and ringing in Roberts ears. Neither the proud boy nor the slouching girl breathed a word to Robert as they twisted through corridor after corridor. This place must be larger than I first anticipated. Finally, after a few minutes of lingering silence, Edward slowed to a stop near an old oak door. Edward shifted his jacket before he leant forward and pressed his ear to the wood, rapping his knuckles against the surface thrice. “Sir?”  
“Yes-Yes, what is it?” A voice grumbled from the other side.  
“Mr Lutece to see you, Sir. As you asked.”  
“Ah!” The sound of a chair scraping against a marble floor followed his reply and soon enough the door was open. A well-dressed man stood before them all, in a full dinner suit complete with a gold pocket watch, which he tucked back in to his waistcoat pocket after checking.  
“A tad late this time round ,Edward. A tad late.”  
“Apologies, Sir.” Edward reprimanded in the least sorry voice Robert had ever heard. At her brother’s dirty look, Eve childishly stuck her tongue out. The man ran a hand over his face, almost as if it would iron out the thickly settled wrinkles that were creasing his face. “Thank you Edward. That will be all.”  
After a polite nod to Robert, Edward turned on his heels and headed back the way he came. Eve was all set to follow suit, but froze mid step at the old man’s words.  
“Your brother has completed his task, Evelyn. I think it should be seen to that you complete yours.”  
Eve looked even more frazzled at this name than she had been when she had been donned ‘Evie’ by her brother. She turned to look at the elderly man slowly and shot him one of her best scowls. “I was going out tonight.” She complained. “Father was finally letting me go out!”  
“You are going outside, are you not?”

“That’s not what I meant by—“ The rest was a finalising huff as she muttered a ‘fine’ under her breath and flounced off. Dumbed with confusion, Robert slowly looked to the man in the doorway, who offered him a kind smile. “Do come in Mr Lutece.” He announced as he turned and made his way back to his tattered armchair. “Have a seat, good sir.”  
“I’d just like to know where my companion is. Something very dreadful happened to us and I would—“  
“Jumping ahead doesn’t fair too well in this line of work, Mr Lutece.” The man silenced him with a wave of his hand, before he looked back at the fire that was crackling away in the stone fireplace. “My name is Charter. Of course, I am lying when I say that but it is what I shall and will be referred to as for the unforeseeable future, apparently.”  
Robert blinked, staring at Charter for some time before he opened his mouth, voicing his confusion finally. “Good god man. You’re speaking in tongues.” He declared, leaning back in his chair. Charter blinked before he let out a hearty chuckle. “Terribly sorry old boy. You’ll have to get used to speaking in tongues around here. Can’t have them knowing what we’re on about. They’d know too much if they did.”  
Confused as to who ‘they’ were, Robert was slowly coming to the end of his tether. “Can you just tell me what happened to me? I just want to find Rosalind and go home.”  
“Well,” Charter hit the base of his smoking pipe against the fireplace to dislodge any old tobacco before he set to work with loading it with some fresh. “To put it simply, Mr Lutece. You’re dead.” Nothing about Charter’s face held the grimness of the sentence. He was simply smiling away. “Of course, that’s only one way of saying it. One could also refer to it as being neither here nor there. But dead in a physical sense.” Charter continued before he struck a match and lit his pipe, taking a good few puffs to get it going, before he settled back in his armchair and regarded Robert through his spectacles. Robert’s mouth was open slightly. “Are you insane?”  
“None of us are insane, Mr Lutece. The world simply holds too much sanity to understand us.” Charter explained in a matter of fact way as he blew out smoke from the corner of his mouth. Robert slowly lowered his gaze to his hands. Expecting them to be transparent as if he was in some cheap ghost story. “I don’t—“

“Look dead? Good grief man, of course you don’t. You’re pure physics! Look at you!”  
“You’re not really making this any clearer to me, Mr Charter.” Robert sighed, running his hands through his hair. Charter leant forward in his chair, the end of his pipe clacking against his teeth as he manoeuvred it from the left side of his mouth to his right. “You were murdered, Mr Lutece. Miss Lutece included. Pushed back in to your marvellous contraption if the records are correct—“  
“Records?”  
“Ah. Yes. 1981. As of yesterday.” Charter explained with a wave of his hand before he continued. “You may have ‘died’ physically but instead you were scattered across time and space. You can appear wherever and whenever you choose.”  
“You’re insane.”  
“A whole race of you seems to think differently, Mr Lutece. Miss Lutece and yourself are the first of many like you. Master Edward and Miss Evelyn included. Though,” He shifted inquisitively in his seat, like a University Professor in his lectures. “Those two are a little different. They’re the first to still be alive and well yet still obtaining your talents.”  
Robert’s head was spinning now. He hadn’t even bothered to take his head from his hands. “You’re insane.”  
“How else would you find yourself in 1981 instead of 1910, Sir? Your bodies reacted badly and you plummeted through time and space.”  
It thoroughly annoyed him, but Robert could see where he was coming from. “A moment ago, you said something about Rosalind and I being the first of a race…?”  
“Ah yes!” Charter slapped his thighs and heaved himself up out of his chair. He wandered over to the fireplace and rested an elbow against the shelf placement. “Before there was Science, Mr Lutece, there was History. Am I correct?”  
“Of course.”  
“Alexis de Tocqueville once said ‘History is a gallery of pictures in which there are few originals and many copies.’ The same applies to our line of work, Mr Lutece. Time is like an ever flowing river. It does not freeze over and it does not slow. However, in one place it may be flowing steadily, in another? Stone dry. Are you following?”  
~No.~“I think so…” Robert swallowed thickly, leaning back in his chair in growing defeat. Charter blew out some smoke from the corner of his mouth once again. “Your…companion and yourself. You are from different realities, correct?”  
“How did you—“  
“Not of importance. Am I correct? Of course, I know I’m correct but I’m just checking you’re not falling behind. Come along then, boy! Answer!”  
“Yes! Rosalind brought me through to her own reality.”  
Charter was silent for a moment, making the slow journey back to his arm chair. There was a sudden yowl that the man completely ignored. A black cat scattered out from underneath the object he was about to set his behind down on. Perhaps this was the cat Eve had been searching for before. “What makes you think, Mr Lutece…” He broke off in to a small huff as he finally plopped himself down on aching bones. “That there are only two realities? The one we reside in here and the one you hail from?”

**

Rosalind had been walking for hours. She had no idea where she was going, or where she had come from in the first place. A quick glance over the side of a fence had told her that she definitely wasn’t anywhere in Columbia. Solid ground all around. In any other circumstance she would have been enthralled at the new technology. Namely the automobiles. (She had learnt her lesson about sticking to the sidewalks by now.) But these were not circumstances that allowed marvelling. Robert was somewhere out there and she was certain of that fact.  
When she thought about it, this had been the longest she had been away from him. As soon as he came through to her side of the realities he instantly haemorrhaged—ruining her nightgown, which she did not approve of despite the matters. That had meant great care and attention had to be administered to her ‘brother’ from then on during his settling in period. Ever since then the two had practically been inseparable. Shoulder to shoulder whenever they were in public.  
A flash of white behind her eyes caused her to lean back against the wall heavily. ~Rosalind.~ His voice echoed between her ears causing a small whimper to escape her pursed lips as she pulled a hand over her eyes. Doubled over in discomfort. ~Rosalind there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Why was she thinking back on that day? Of all things why was her brain going back there? I know it seems like well…taboo really but—~  
“Oh Robert for the sake of the Prophet spit it out.” She found herself whispering her words under her breath despite herself.  
~I am trying to, Rosalind. It’s just…hard to put in to words when it comes to you. I’ve been thoroughly confused about myself this past year and…well…the fact of the matter is I think I’m in love with you. And I find myself not caring of the consequences.~  
The pain shot through her like a warm knife to butter. Causing her to fall to her knees instantly. Something hot and sickly was lingering in the back of her throat, and she instantly set it upon herself to dispel it. The fact that it was blood that spattered the tiled pavements didn’t help her sudden wash of anxiety. The null and empty feeling in the pit of her body knocked her sick.  
White fear suddenly alerted her senses. Slowly, she pressed a hand to her abdomen, tears prickling her vision. ~No. No no no…Oh god.~ A broken sob escaped her lips and racked her small form. “Please not now.” She sobbed again. “Please don’t make me lose you…p-please…please…Robert! Robert where are you! The baby! The baby…” The rest of her sentence drifted off in to incoherent wailing of pain and torment, sounds of woe that bounced off the walls and rang in her ears, mocking her.  
For a moment, when the arms wrapped around her, a small spark of hope ignited in her chest. Maybe he had heard her. He had heard her and come running.  
“Easy there, Miss Lutece.” The girl’s voice was unbelievably calm, and when Rosalind turned her head she was met with a kind face. Her eye makeup was thick and black but her eyes were full of empathy. A light wind was shifting her dyed hair.  
“My baby…”  
For a moment, a flash of sorrow flickered in the girls’ eyes before she schooled herself and helped Rosalind to her feet slowly, though she insisted that the scientist kept her arm over her shoulder for support.  
“Is fine, Miss Lutece. Everything is fine. Your body is just settling in.” Eve fished in her clutch for a moment before she pulled out a neatly folded tissue. Which she dabbed at Rosalind’s eyes and nose with. “My name is Eve, Miss Lutece.” She explained in a soft tone as she slowly walked her out of the alley and back on to the deserted main street. A yellow taxi cab was waiting on the corner. “…I’m taking you somewhere safe, Miss.”  
“Robert—“  
“Patience, Miss Lutece. Don’t stress yourself again. Mr Lutece will be there. I can assure you that.”


End file.
